Dents & Curves
by meltedpoo
Summary: Gintoki notes time's effects on his face.


**TITLE: **Dents And Curves

**SUMMARY: **Gintoki notes time's effect on his face.

**DISCLAIMER: **Did you know that Eskimos don't live on igloos? And that they don't kiss with their noses? And that I do not own Gintama?

**A/N: **Who would have thought that inside my eye bags are small, fluffy plot bunnies?

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**DENTS AND CUVES**

Gintoki traced the outlines of the face he saw on the mirror. He knew it was his, the basic features were there. But he could not be entirely sure. Did these lines really belong to him? These were his eyes, to be sure, but they felt strangely unreal. Dark circles below them told him they were tired but there was a bright gleam there, too. Something of happiness and what others would call 'life'. This is his nose, he thought, as he ran his fingers on its bridge. How odd. When was the last time he payed attention to them? He could not remember anymore what his nose used to look like. He moved on to his lips, a shade paler than most. He recalled the many times he had use for them and wondered, '_how did I look at those times? How did it feel? Chapped and dry as they are now, no doubt.' _Gintoki licked his lips and sighed.

When did he start getting so obsessed with his face? He wasn't what you'd call a vain man. Far from it, he took no mind of his appearance beyond that of looking at least a little presentable. His only insecurity was his natural perm, which, though he often complained about, was not something he would wallow over. Yet now he was carefully scrutinizing his facial features with meticulous care.

He wasn't worried but he _was _getting older.

Once again, the samurai sighed and turned his head to look at his bed.

Lying there was Hijikata Toushirou. Advancing to get a a clearer view, Gintoki studied the vice-commander's sleeping face. Somehow, though every year they both aged, Hijikata was, to Gintoki's annoyance, strangely unchanged. He retained the same glow (ugh...he hated to use the word but it was as close as he can get to describing it) on his skin that he had when they first met and though he, too, had lines on his face, it served only to add personality and to make his features more prominent. His hair, under the early morning light that streamed through the blinds, remained as dark as ever. And, unlike his, Gintoki's, lips, Hijikata's were thin and smooth and cherry-like, though, to Gintoki's dismay, they tasted like cigarettes and mayonnaise. Not that he didn't like it but strawberry would have tasted just as well, even better.

Gintoki sighed _again _and slumped his head on the bedside.

"What are you sighing so early for?" Hijikata asked blearily.

Gintoki made a muffled reply, prompting Hijikata to sleepily inquire, 'what?'. Gintoki raised his head and gave an accusing glare in Hijikata's direction, "You're too good to be true."

Hijikata gave an incredulous chuckle, "What?"

Gintoki shook his head and looked down, "I've been thinking."

"So you do that sometimes, huh?"

"Shut up."

"So? You're thinking about what?"

"About life."

"Woah, easy. You're beginner. Don't start on something so deep. Find something more basic."

Gintoki glared at him, "I'm serious."

"Okay, okay. And what was your conclusion?"

"I think you're too handsome. (Here Hijikata laughed and Gintoki glared again to silence him.) You're growing old and so am I and yet my face is deteriorating faster than yours and soon you'll leave me because I look old and ugly and not at all like your Gintoki in mind."

This time Hijikata was silent and so was Gintoki. They merely stared at each other, one kneeling beside the bed, the other lying sideways below the covers. The light dimmed and brightened up again and the stillness weighed heavily on the room. Thirty seconds passed, and then a minuted but neither said a word. Instead, Hijikata reached his hand out to Gintoki's face, tracing the irregularities on it and running them down the small lines that make up his face, the dents and curves and hills, the little worlds that existed in Gintoki's face alone. Finally he rested them on the side of Gintoki's face and looked on with a stoic expression that betrayed sadness only through his eyes.

"Is it the eyes?" Hijikata asked and leaned towards Gintoki to kiss them, "Is it your nose?" He kissed Gintoki's nose, too, and Gintoki laughed a little. Each time he named a part, Gintoki's shoulders, his ears, his fingers, the back of his neck, and asked him if it was that part that bothered him and then he would kiss them, as if he were a god sealing those parts with approval using his lips. He never wavered and his eyes looked Gintoki in the eye for each question he asked. "Which part is it, Gintoki, that bothers you the most?"

Gintoki, eyes closed, shook his head and said nothing. He smiled slightly, knowing that Hijikata rarely did these things.

"Don't say those things again, okay? Don't even think about it."

"Mmhm."

"I have no Gintoki in mind. I only have the Gintoki in front of me, you get that?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You did nothing wrong."

Gintoki nodded and sat down with Hijikata on the sheets.

"Thinking really isn't for you, Gintoki."

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**A/N: **nibble my carrot


End file.
